Brahd wakes up on a cold December morning and sits straight up in bed. It’s Christmas, he excitedly thinks to himself and runs to get his 1 year old son, Grehg, from his crib. Together they run for the tree which was meticulously groomed in the living room, waiting for Santa to fill it with gifts. When they arrived, Brahd was in shock. He stared on at the empty tree in horror. As he stumbled past the dismal looking green shrub he knocked over the cookies and milk which had gone untouched, he sat on the couch in disbelief. How could Santa forget him and his son? On his son’s first Christmas? Brahd glanced down at his toddler, who was unaware of the tragedy they were both experiencing. The only thing Brahd could think to do was call the Santa hotline. His parents had told him it was only to be used in emergencies. He quietly entered 119 to his phone and heard a lonely dial tone on the other end. The phone dropped from Brahd’s clammy hand as the horrifying realization crept over him, Santa isn’t real. He shakes his head trying not to cry, the only thing left to do is call his parents. He dials the number he knows by heart and is greeted by a cheery “Hello” on the other end. “Hi-i Mom” Brahd stammers, trying not to cry. “Hi Honey! How are you? Can’t wait to see you and Grehg soon!” She replies. “Mom, there’s something I need to ask you, what did you and Dad ever do if Santa didn’t come?” Brahd grimaced as he said the last words. “Oh dear” His mom stammered, “Brahd I think you should come over, your father and I need to show you something.” Brahd gathered his son and with all his strength made them breakfast and drove them to his parents home. It had begun snowing, it could have been a perfect Christmas, Brahd thought. They arrived to his parents home who worriedly saw them from the window. His mom welcomed them inside and sat them both on the couch. “So dear, we brought you here today to tell you something which may be hard to hear. You know how every year you and your friends write letters to Santa?” His Mom asks not willing to look him in the eyes as his dad stood over her shoulder.” “Yea, of course and then we put them in the mailbox and they get sent to Santa” Brahd quickly responds. “Well, you see, they did go to Santa, it’s just….well…” Brahd’s mom stands abruptly and gestures for him to come with. They all walk to the back of the house past all the bedrooms and his dad’s office. They stop in front of a sealed door and Brahd stares blankly ahead. This is the door he has been forbidden to enter his entire life. His mom pulls a key out and opens the door. The lock opens with ease but the door creaks, behind it, stacks and stacks of letters are in piles. “We are Santa”. His mom whispers.
